Clearheart (4 page)

‘Well, I wish I could just “think” myself up some wings,' said Ella out loud without thinking.

Ms Wheelbarrow patted Ella on the arm. ‘Now, now child. Don't be downhearted. Or so hasty. Your wings will come. The magic is within each of us. That is what school is for. To teach you. You have only been here a term, after all. And judging oneself too harshly won't help.' Ella tried to take the
headmistress's advice to heart, but it was tricky.

‘Now, is there anything else?' said Ms Wheelbarrow.

‘Um,' said Ella, ‘I'm not sure if it's that important,' she said, ‘but I seem to be able to see an oak tree down near the poppy and herb gardens that Gloria Ulnus doesn't think I should be able to.'

Ms Wheelbarrow's eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Well, Gloria
can
see it, dear, as can any number of other Dryad Flitterwig students at my school. As I can, being of dryad heritage myself. But you can too? Well, that is most fascinating.' And as if she wasn't too sure what to do with this information, Ms Wheelbarrow brought the meeting to a swift close.

‘Well, that's that then,' she said definitively. ‘Thank you for being so frank with me. Try not to think too many Clearhearted thoughts, dear. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to you now, do we.' The headmistress tapped Ella on the elbow. ‘Hurry along now,' she said. ‘You will have to get dressed before your Essentials of Magic class. Oh, and before I forget, I must summon that Charlie Snoppit to see me at once.' Tweaking her ear and muttering a spell, Ms Wheelbarrow Personified her teacup and instructed it to fetch him. The teacup grew wings, arms, legs, eyes, a nose and a mouth at once.
‘Charlie really must understand that, as your Goblin Protector, it is imperative that he keep an eye on you at all times.'

Ella nodded compliantly. Smiling politely, she took her leave.

Ms Wheelbarrow could not contain her own curiosity. She made her way at once to the Spirit Tree.

‘Is it true that Ella Montgomery can see you?' she asked it, her voice a rustling hush.

‘Yessss,'
the tree whispered

‘But she is of elven heritage,' said Ms Wheelbarrow, not meaning to hold on to old grudges but feeling a slight sting of envy all the same. For, while Ms Wheelbarrow did not subscribe at all to the animosity between those of elven heritage and those of dryad heritage, she was part human after all, and proudly possessive of her special affinity with the trees.

‘And do you feel beholden to tell her the truth, as you do to us?' she asked the tree, curiosity more than anything now prompting her question.

‘I dooo,'
rustled the tree.

‘Well I never,' said Ms Wheelbarrow. ‘How very incredible.' She made her way back to her office. She sat on the sofa and shook her head. ‘The Clearheart,' she said out loud, for she
hadn't quite been able to believe it until right now, when she had had her own special affinity equalled by the child. ‘Right here at Hedgeberry.' There hadn't been a Clearheart at Hedgeberry in generations. ‘And with such a beautiful smile too.'

Ella was pretty late to Essentials of Magic by the time she got dressed. Charlie looked up at her apologetically as she came into the room. He had copped quite a telling off from Ms Wheelbarrow, not that he had any idea what else he could have done. Harold, perched in his lap, looked utterly mortified. Ella smiled at them both. The boy and the frog visibly relaxed before her eyes. Charlie vowed to get much better at keeping track of her, that being his destiny and all. Being her Goblin Protector and all. Which would be hard, as Charlie really did have so much to get on with himself, for this was his first term at Hedgeberry too.

Professor Samuel Happenstance, better known as the Chairman of the Flitterwig Rooniun (the Prime Minister of Flitterwiggery, if you like), had taken time out of his very busy schedule to grace the children with his presence once a week, to teach the Essentials of Magic class.

He watched Ella closely as she sat down at the back of the class. She was the primary reason why he was taking the class
this year. For he wanted to keep an eye on her progress.

‘You are late, young lady,' the graceful man said, tucking loose strands of long, wild grey hair behind his delicate, pointed ears. They were very much like Ella's own. Ella touched the tips of her ears absently and pulled out her notebook. He looked at the child carefully, as if to read what had made her tardy. ‘You had better hurry up and get down what is written on the board.'

Ella felt about in her dungarees pocket for her pencil. It wasn't there. She felt in the pocket of her hoodie. Dixon was there, wrapped around her pencil. The pencil was struggling to get away from the pixie. He had Personified it! Which was absolutely not allowed, except in Transmogrification.

‘What are you doing?' Ella whispered crossly, leaning under the desk and whipping the pixie and the pencil out of her pocket.

‘Just trying to help. Help. Rhymes with kelp,' Dixon whispered back grumpily, glaring at Ella as he struggled to contain the pencil. ‘Need to write fast. Must be quick. Faster if the pencil does it. It. Tit. Nit. Wit.'

‘Objectify it at once!' Ella whispered. The pixie's big eyes welled up, horrified that the child should be so snappy.

‘Just trying to help,' he whimpered. ‘And I can't actually get to my ear to Objectify it again!'

Ella just couldn't stay cross with the naughty creature. She looked over at the sundial. She really needed to get on with copying the notes off the board.

‘Okay,' she said, tearing a page from her notebook and putting it on her thigh. She pulled the pencil out of Dixon's arms and stroked it gently to calm it down. ‘Would you mind?' she asked it. The pencil settled at once, lulled by the softness of her voice. It began scribbling.

She pretended to write in her notebook with her finger and tried to listen to what Samuel was saying.

‘We Flitterwigs do not like to subscribe fully to Magical Hierarchy, of course,' said Samuel. ‘They can get a little precious, those dear Pure Magicals. But one must understand the order of things in Magus in order to appreciate one's own special abilities.' Samuel smiled reassuringly at the two Imp Flitterwigs at the front of the class, who, being at the bottom of the Magical pile, had no particularly unique skills other than making mischief. ‘So, we will take it from the top, most to least powerful,' he said, turning to the board. Samantha, who had just stabbed herself in the eye with her own pencil, marvelled
at the way his long white shirt and baggy slacks seemed to float about him. Some Flitterwigs were just so cool, she thought to herself. He wrote on the board.

‘Of course, each of us has our own special attachments to the elements of water, earth, air and fire, but not necessarily in isolation,' said Samuel. ‘For example, the Dryad Flitterwigs have a special affinity with trees. Who can give me a few examples of this?'

Gloria Ulnus shot her hand up.

‘Yes, Gloria?' said Samuel, looking the child up and down with a certain reservation.

‘We can interpret the whispers of the breeze in the trees, sir, and we can see the Spirit Trees, and we can whistle up the wind in the trees to do our bidding, and the trees tell us truths.'

‘Quite so,' said Samuel. ‘But what is your elemental connection?'

‘The earth,' said Gloria.

‘Exactly,' said Samuel. ‘But who among us also has an affinity with the earth?

‘We do!' called out a blue-eyed Sylph Flitterwig.

‘But what is your element?' he asked.

‘The air,' said the Sylph Flitterwig.

‘Precisely,' said Samuel. ‘Whilst we Elven Flitterwigs, what is our connection?'

‘The air too?' a short, stocky Gnome Flitterwig with very
knobbly arms piped up.

‘Funnily enough, no,' said Samuel. ‘Though that is a good guess, as we are Flitterwigs of flight. But so are sprites and imps. No. Our element is water.'

Charlie Snoppit was trying to keep up, but he really wasn't understanding a word. He scratched at his freckled, snub nose absently. There was just so much to take in. Although it was rather exciting to know that his kind, Goblin Protectors, were right at the top of the Magical pile. He puffed his chest out. It deflated almost immediately. What a responsibility, protecting royalty.

At that moment, the bluebells rang. The children were up in an instant, gathering notebooks and chattering at nineteen to the dozen. Which was just as well, for quite a ruckus had broken out on Ella's lap. The pencil, annoyed with Dixon for telling it to write faster, had had enough. It was trying to stab the pixie in the tummy with its pointed end. The pixie, meanwhile, had wrapped itself tightly around the pencil's stem and was kicking it in the side. Ella wrapped them both up in her hand and made for the door.

‘Remember, children, next week we will review the essentials of finding one's magic within. We will take another look
at dust, Ponkalucka wishes, tears, flight and speed in relation to the fingers, ears, eyes, wings, feet, ears and so forth.'

Samuel watched Ella nip out the door, the pixie and the pencil in her hand not escaping his attention. He smiled to himself. The girl had much to learn.

Ella didn't wait in the corridor for her friends. She had to rein Dixon in! She slipped into a broom cupboard, held the pixie and the pencil up in front of her face and tore the two battling oddities apart.

‘Stop it!' she hissed. But neither of them was listening. Ella grabbed at her ear as Dixon kicked and punched. She tweaked it and tried to remember the spell for Objectifying a Personified object. As she did so, Dixon's foot flew out and caught her in the eye, making it water. She tried to wipe it clear with her other hand and poked herself in the cheek with the pencil. As soon as the pencil made contact with a tear, it started to grow! But it was still Personified, arms flailing and wings flapping, shouting at the pixie for all it was worth.

‘Oh, for Magic's sake!' said Ella, remembering immediately that her tears had the strangest effects on things. The pencil had grown to the size of her arm. Twisting free of her grip, it launched itself at Dixon. Gracious, she was going to be ever so late for Animumble!

She was. In fact, so were Charlie, Samantha and her best friend Humphrey too. Noticing that she had not followed them to the next class, Charlie had turned back, dragging Samantha with him. It wasn't hard to find her. Anyone passing by would have heard Ella scrambling and squabbling with Dixon—and something else—in the broom cupboard.

‘I don't think we should disturb her,' whispered Harold to Charlie outside the cupboard door. ‘You know how huffy she gets about not being good enough at magic.'

‘Don't worry,' said Samantha, noticing Charlie's hesitation and ushering Humphrey over. ‘Quick, Humph,' she said, dragging him over to the closet. ‘Bongle us. Then we can go in there, help Ella without her knowing, and get to class ten minutes late at worst.' Charlie looked at Samantha as if she had just said a word that made absolutely no sense at all. Which she had, as far as he was concerned. Samantha crinkled her face up.

‘Oh, you and Ella are just
so
cute!' she squealed. ‘You don't know much about anything at all, do you?' Charlie gave Samantha a thanks-very-much-for-making-me-feel-stupid smirk.
Samantha quickly explained. ‘Humph has a power hardly any Flitterwigs have, because there are hardly any Moglin Flitterwigs left.'

‘Which is?' said Charlie impatiently. The sound of Ella struggling in the closet seemed to be of very little import to Samantha.

‘Humphrey can make us invisible. That's what Bongling is.'

‘Interesting,' said Charlie, raising his eyebrows with a whole new respect for Samantha's pale, moony-faced friend.

‘I suppose it is,' said Samantha, looking thoughtful and a little dippy.

Humphrey looked up at Samantha through his long lashes. He flicked his dark hair out of his eyes and raised an eyebrow. ‘You really want me to Bongle you?' he said slowly.

‘Yes, really,' said Samantha. ‘Like, now. Come on, Humph, I don't have all day.' Humphrey rolled his eyes.

‘Really, Sam?' he drawled. ‘But,' he said, pausing, ‘I'm pretty sure you've read the same school rules that I have. You know, rule number two. No flagrant or unnecessary use of magic, discretion being the cornerstone of Flitterwiggery?'

Samantha frowned at her best friend impatiently. ‘JUST DO IT,' she ordered.

‘Fine. Whatever,' said Humphrey, his eyelids drooping and his tone resigned. He shook out his hands and cleared the hair out of his eyes. He tweaked his ear, then placed one hand on Samantha's shoulder and the other on Charlie's. Then he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes dolefully as he did so.

The three of them disappeared in seconds, leaving the barest trace of clothing in their wake and a strong aroma of cinnamon and orange.

‘We have five minutes precisely,' whispered Humphrey into thin air as they passed right through the door, without even opening it, and into the closet.

By the time Charlie had sat on the pencil to keep it still, Humphrey had Objectified the flailing thing, which caused it to Shrinkify back to its normal size, and Ella had watched in open mouthed wonder while she calmed the pixie down, the children were lucky indeed that Mrs Pickles, the unbelievably hairy Animumble teacher, a Goblin Flitterwig, didn't seem to give a gherkin about time. Ella, not feeling quite as impressed as she'd like to that she'd managed to Objectify something (because she wasn't sure that she really had), sat near Charlie. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She tried her best to understand
what the donkey and the puppy in class today had to say. But she couldn't, of course. Much to Charlie and Dixon's amusement. Not that she was the only Flitterwig who couldn't understand animals. None of the three other Elven Flitterwigs in her year could either. In fact, it was well known that Elven Flitterwigs were rubbish at Animumble. Although the other three
could
fly. But Ella wasn't thinking about that. Much.